Shadow of the Sun (The Shadow Saga) (50 page)

Netri crossed his arms. “Merit-Aten has shown great fortitude taking on the responsibility of the palace. Now, the court waits. Let us be seated for dinner.” He extended his hand and helped his petite mother up from her throne.

I wished Grand Djedti had revealed what danger lay ahead for me.

I had forgotten her talent for picking out the things that would irritate me the most. That frustrated my Meti as well. Something could be so wonderful and yet Grand Djedti found the one thread to unravel the tapestry of joy.

We seated ourselves at a long, low table while the servants piled food upon platters. We had roasted goose, Grand Djedti’s favorite dish, while my younger sisters preferred the fish. Pentu, Netri, and I ate only vegetarian dishes. Father instilled this custom because he couldn’t harm animals. I witnessed countless times when he rescued spiders, toads and butterflies by instructing attendants to take the tiny beings outside and free them.

After we finished dinner, Pentu excused himself to attend some patients.

Grand Djedti made an announcement. “I have gifts from the foreign dignitaries, along with some of my own presents.” She clapped her hands and in walked her personal staff with carts of wonderful items. A team of shining horses, a beautiful tent with ten flags in different colors, ten peacocks and hens, a camel, a herd of sheep and goats, fat geese, a flock of doves, a falcon, and boxes of gold and jewelry.

An attendant arrived, leading a baby gazelle.

I squealed because it looked so cute, but Meket suddenly seemed cheerful and said, “I want that.” The attendant placed the baby gazelle in her arms. Meket smiled for the first time that day.

“Where is mine?” Ankhi demanded.

An attendant headed toward Ankhi with a monkey clothed in a bright yellow sheath, a golden necklace, and a tiny red hat. It chattered.

Ankhi clapped. “A monkeeeeeeee!”

The little charmer climbed upon her shoulder and imitated her. I giggled.
Lift your hat, little one.

The primate squeaked and removed its cap to the cheers of all. Ankhi laughed. All the animals made a cacophony of sound, and my attention jerked from one to the other.

I hopped up. “There must be something in here for Netri.” I spied a beautiful wrapped large box with his name upon it and picked it up.

The box was heavy. I shook it; nothing rattled so I laid it before him and, wanting to surprise him, I yanked off the top. An angry cobra reared its head, spreading its hood as a vicious warning.

I shrieked, and the cobra rotated its head to look at me, hissing and baring its fangs. The donkey scooted back and pushed its cart into the handler. The alarmed animals sensed the danger and ran amok. The screeching hawk flew up in the air, unable to escape because of the long leather cord attached to its claw. My mouth grew dry. Reptiles never listened to me, but I tried anyway.

Hello. I will not hurt you.

The flock of turtle doves took flight. The cobra snapped at them and missed.

“Kill it,” demanded Grand Djedti. Guards rushed in with spears and swords, ready to attack the venomous cobra. I reached for the lid of the box to use as a shield, and suddenly an image of Sit-Amun placing the snake in the box flashed through my mind.

“No,” said my father. “Merit, stay still.” He took the red beaded scarf and waved the kerchief at the cobra. The snake turned toward him with a hiss. He dropped the scarf at his feet and kneeled before the snake poised to strike.

My father took a stance of utter vulnerability and gentleness, and when he made contact with the eyes of the snake, a transmission exchanged between them. Father projected a light from his eyes into the snake’s, and the reptile reacted by withdrawing its hood and easing downward into a coil. The Pharaoh extended his hand and verily did that snake wind its way toward him. He picked it up, sweetly kissed the snake’s head as he would a baby, all the while whispering to it softly.

“There will be no further danger. Release the poor creature back into the desert.” My father shifted to hand the pet off to an attendant, but no one would come forward to accept the gift. “Ah,” said Netri, and without hesitation, he placed the snake back into the box.

My father had not panicked. He took charge of the situation yet he also considered the well-being of the snake. How did he do this? He not only mesmerized the snake, he mesmerized the entire room of attendants who now bowed low before him. Their hands stretched out in subservience to the all powerful, all purposeful, all loving Pharaoh.

The guard prostrated himself. “Your courage puts us all to shame, I am your guard and you inspire me.”

“It is nothing. Any of you could do the same. Could we now restore order to this chaos? I think the animals would feel more comfortable in the royal aviary and the new zoo. And here, for your efforts, please make sure all the attendants are well cared for tonight.” My father pulled a bag of riches from the cart and handed it to the guard.

When all the animals were corralled and led away, and my younger siblings were put to bed, my father, Grand Djedti, and I strolled out onto the patio.

“So, they are still trying to assassinate me?” asked Father with a strange look of surprise.

“Did you think the Amunites’ hatred of you would vanish just because you moved away from the city?” asked Ti-Yee. “I should have ordered that all packages be opened and checked.” Tears dripped down her face,

“It happened so suddenly. This could have been a disaster.”

“Netri, Sit-Amun did this.” I grabbed his sleeve. “I saw it.”

Netri stared at the ground. “That would not surprise me. She will never stop, I suppose.”

“I should never open boxes from strangers. I am sorry, Netri. I forgot. We all received such wondrous things; I wanted something to delight you because you always give so much.”

“There are no accidents,” he said. “The will of the Aten protected me and restored the harmony. Just as it should be. We did not need to kill anything; we only needed to bring the power of the Aten through us to heal all things.”

Grand Djedti Ti-Yee raised a fist. “I will make her pay for this. I have had enough of her antics. You, or your daughter, could have died tonight.”

“But we did not, Mother. Please do not retaliate. Then others will die and I could not bear that.”

“You all should go away, take some time at the sea. It would be good for the family,” advised Grand Djedti.

Father shook his head. “I cannot go because I have to oversee all the new buildings, the masons and the artists. But, I have pondered about the right time to send Merit-Aten and her class away to study.”

“Really, Netri? We will be taking a trip? Where to?” I asked.

“To the Temple of Heliopolis.”

A
stoic man with brown eyes stood before me dressed in the rainment of the High Priest of Heliopolis. Collecting myself, I glided to him with an air of confidence, wanting to make a favorable impression upon this important figure. As my father reminded me, I represented the crown and must act in accordance.

Pentu introduced me. “Merit-Aten, Royal Daughter of Nefertiti and Beloved of Aten, it is with the utmost reverence that I present you to The Orama of Heliopolis.”

The venerated man held onto his yew wood staff with a dark blue crystal wrapped with copper wire mounted upon the apex. The High Priest’s ceremonial diadem had a moldavite stone that flashed like a giant All-Seeing Eye. I wondered if this man could indeed observe all.

“Homage to Your Majesty. I have heard a great deal about you from Pentu-Aten,” he said.

I gave a slight nod. “Thank you, Orama.”

“I hope your journey was not too insufferable, and that you will find your true calling within the confines of this temple,” said the High Priest. His eyes dropped to my expensive Right Eye of Horus necklace. I felt proud he recognized the quality of royal craftsmanship.

I licked my parched lips. “Yes, it was a long, uncomfortable ride and I am a bit queasy. Would someone show me to my room?”

“Your room, ah, of course. Pentu, would you be kind enough to show her Royal Highness to her assigned quarters?” said The Orama. “Just through the courtyard to the chambers of the Neophytes. You remember the way.”

Pentu escorted me into a courtyard awash in the fragrance of exotic flowers splashed in rainbow hues. A gregarious flock of pink-stained flamingos stood like one-legged dancers around pastel pools. Their horrific squawking paled any desire to feed them the bread crumbs left in my pocket.

“He seems quite pleasant, Pentu,” I said. “I think I shall like it here.”

“Yes, this is an intriguing place. I do believe you will learn quite a bit,” he said, in a distant voice. I wondered where his thoughts had flown off to.

We entered an austere reception area that led to small open cubicles.

How odd. This was so unlike the usual chambers painted in vivid colors to which I was accustomed. If the limestone blocks didn’t look so ancient, I would have surmised this area wasn’t yet finished. We turned into the first space.

“Your Highness, you may rest here,” said Pentu, his hands clasped.

“Where?” My brows knitted as I scrutinized the unadorned chamber then stepped out into the hallway, certain he must be mistaken.

“Right here. This will be your quarters for the duration of your stay.”

I gasped. “Surely, you tease. This is unsuitable and I shall not belittle myself or my crown to accept such meager arrangements. Father and Mother would be displeased that preparations were not made.” Again my feet felt like I had stepped on hot coals.

Without warning the doors split open and a browned bear of a man barreled through. “This way,” he said, and marched forward, leading the ragged band of my classmates. “You two, there.” He pointed to Archollos and Ra-Awab, then to one of the rooms. “You and you, there.” Keshtuat and Sarawat were pleased to be together. “You, in with her.” He pointed to Rennutet, the frail girl with dark circles under her eyes. Then to me. “You in with her.”

In less time than it takes a hedgehog to kill a snake, the overseer had matched the entire class except for one extra girl.